The Poison Pie Publishing House presents:

A Practicum on Divination via Cleromancy
Hebeloma Crustuliniforme
(link to main page of novel)

July

July 1, 2019
Traveler: Demoleon; Companion: Porphyrion; Moon: Crescent

There is in the honoring of our obligations virtue, but there is also stubbornness. Distinguishing between the two is unnecessary because they come to the same end. Besides, mistaking one for the other--virtue for stubbornness or vice versa--is an exercise best administered with an ample allowance for ambiguity. Demoleon continued to pace through the rough corridors of the maze, though he had no particular destination in mind. Still, the alternative, to stop, to simply lie down in the darkness and surrender to despair, seemed less preferable. If he was mistaken in his choice, Demoleon suspected that he would pay no penalty, for the darkness wasn't going anywhere. When he abruptly met Porphyrion at a juncture in the labyrinth, Demoleon's lassitude was evident. Porphyrion elicited from him an explanation for his malaise. "To whom have you sworn this oath that keeps you treading along in so mechanical a stride?"

"Oh, I made no oath to man nor god," Demoleon clarified. "It is merely the impulse that animates the meat of the body, which prevents me from abandoning my labor, useless though it may be."

To these words Porphyrion had no quick remedy. He offered only the following advice. "The life of a man is no sure thing. It is susceptible to being toppled by the crashing of an unseen wave and, rising on a subsequent crest, inadvertently restored. May the body persist until the storm clouds darkening your mind have passed."

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino, John Zorn, William Parker, Zeena Parker, Ikue Mori & Susie Ibarra - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-7 (July 13, 1996, Context Studios, New York, United States, digital files)

July 2, 2019
Traveler: Europe; Companion: Menestheus; Moon: Crescent

Much that occurs within the world cannot be justified by mortal reckoning. Tragedies stemming from natural disasters are accepted as a consequence of dwelling in an imperfect world, guided only by the insentient principles of physics. Calamities resulting from humanity's action or inaction are not so easily accepted. Thinkers are compelled to rationalize why one group of people would allow, or worse yet force, another group to suffer and perish. Thus did the concept of evil come into being--to describe the worst aspects of human relationships. It is at the same time undeniable and unpalatable, for to call one's enemy evil is to suggest that no better solution exists than their extirpation. Thus evil becomes an appellation of last resort.

Even when subject to the malevolence of evil men, still there are those who refuse to employ the term to describe their tormentors. We observe Europe, doomed to die at the hands of the minotaur by King Minos. Rather than condemn the monarch, she denied that the minotaur existed, though for what other reason than its imprisonment had the labyrinth been devised? Consider further the gentle soul, Menestheus, who could harbor wickedness in neither body nor mind. He regarded his fate as merely hapless. Even then, he acted as if it might be possible, by remaining unobtrusive, to be completely forgotten. In this event, he might yet reclaim a measure of dignity, beneath the notice of the great authorities of the mortal world.

written while listening to:  Black Stage & Barre Philips - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-14 (October 31, 1996, Manda-la 2, Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 3, 2019
Traveler: Europe; Companion: Menestheus; Moon: Gibbous

It remains a possibility that the steadfast exercise of disbelief can be accompanied by a side-effect in which disinterest in matters regarding one's own fate grows. Although she adamantly denied the existence of the minotaur in anything other than myth, Europe was nevertheless confined to wander the unlit corridors of the subterranean labyrinth, in which the beast reputedly prowled. Where her fellow captives were motivated to continue moving through the maze, even at random, by the notion that mobile prey was harder to track, Europe was forced to look elsewhere for inspiration. "Why," she asked aloud, "should I continue this meaningless drifting through dark tunnels and shadowed chambers?"

Unbeknownst to the maiden, Menestheus had approached, hidden by the same darkness she decried. Overhearing her plaintive query, he tried to comfort her. "Europe, I have always admired your indomitable spirit, one who rejected what others took for granted so that you might find your own truth." He paused letting the echo of his words die out. "Do not," he implored, "forget the purpose in your disbelief. Do not succumb to the vacuum you have created. Fill this space with something of your own creation, something alive and vibrant."

Although she did not have an immediate answer, the words of Menestheus proved sufficient to prompt her to focus again on that which had always been her goal.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Derek Bailey - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-7 (November 25, 1996, Maida Vale Studios, London, United Kingdom, digital files)

July 4, 2019
Traveler: Demoleon; Companion: Porphyrion; Moon: Gibbous

Demoleon heard someone mumbling in the darkness. Although he did not recognize the speaker immediately, no fear gripped him, for the voice could not be mistaken as that of the minotaur, who communicated only in grunts and bellows. Demoleon followed the sound of the words through the twisting darkness of the labyrinth. For softly whispered words, it seemed his pursuit drew on far too long, until it occurred to him that the one responsible for these whispers was moving as well. Finding one's own destiny within the maze was virtually impossible; trailing another doubly so. Still, Demoleon did not call out for the other to halt. He paused and attempted to discern the content of the words, but found them largely unintelligible, slurred together as if the speaker was sedated, struggling to convince his brain and mouth to cooperate. Among the garbled syllables, Demoleon thought he made out the word, "stairs." He had yet to encounter any carved steps in the labyrinth; the many levels were joined by tunnels and chambers that sloped gradually or fell abruptly. For a moment, Demoleon imagined stairs ascending to the surface. He ran toward the mumbling man that he might discover this secret path to freedom before losing track of him. To his great disappointment, Demoleon found only Porphyrion, praying incessantly as he traipsed through the mine. "A prayer!" Demoleon exclaimed in disgust.

"A prayer!" Porphyrion confirmed in the midst of an ecstatic joy.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Ayuo Takahashi - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-5 (December 17, 1996, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 5, 2019
Traveler: Eurymedusa; Companion: Europe; Moon: Gibbous

In the surface world, each day begins with the rising of the sun and concludes with its setting. Few regard the predictability of this routine as monotonous. To the contrary, ordinary people and society as a whole find in this reliable schedule a means by which they can organize their lives. It is only among the mentally unhealthy that one finds perspectives in which the rigid repetition of the daily pattern can become an onerous burden. To those surface dwellers who share this view, the moon offers something of a reprieve, for it appears in the night sky at different hours and different points along the horizon and its reflected shape changes according to a schedule that is not especially aligned with clocks or calendars. For this reason, lunatics find solace in the apparent freedom of the moon.

In the subterranean labyrinth, the sun neither rose nor set. Nor did the moon provide relief. Even those of stable mind could fail to establish a framework with which they might coordinate their actions. Dwelling in her underground lake, Eurymedusa possessed sufficient self-awareness to acknowledge that she was in danger of succumbing to a malaise of uncertainty. Perhaps she was also aware of her own dishonesty, when she claimed to Europe that the extent of the threat was at most superficial.

Europe had reason for doubt. Indeed, what plague can be more deleterious than one which attacks the soul? That she said nothing is not to be interpreted as a sign of gullibility. Rather, Europe understood that perseverance is required as much for daily tribulations as it is for the few, odd, life-defining moments of exceptional adversity.

written while listening to:  Vajra - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-7 (December 20, 1996, Manda-la 2, Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 6, 2019
Traveler: Amphidocus; Companion: Demoleon; Moon: Gibbous

Amphidocus, the questioner, wandered through the labyrinth without purpose. He had once entertained the notion that it was his ambition to procure a purpose of his own through the investigation of the motivations and justifications, which others had adopted to define their lives. Ultimately, he proved unsuccessful in this pursuit and eventually gave it up as unsatisfying. What need did Amphidocus have for the life-vests that kept other men afloat? "Let me sink," he said. With this thought in mind he chose his path through the labyrinth strictly based on the steepness of the slopes offered, always choosing the one that appeared to descend most rapidly. At the very bottom, near, presumably, the center of the Earth, who should Amphidocus find clinging to the shadows but Demoleon, the virtuous?

"Demoleon," he said from the darkness, "I did not expect you here."

"Amphidocus," said the other, "to be sure, I did not come here with the intention of sharing what little wisdom I possess with other lost souls, but since we are met in this place, allow me to convey to you something that I have learned along the way."

Amphidocus listened, although had his expression been clearly visible, Demoleon would have discerned that he was not in a mood to appreciate any advice, however well-meant.

Thus spake Demoleon, "It falls to each of to make our own way. To some a noble path appears and it is, as if guided by the spirits, their destiny to follow. By many are such individuals lauded. Do not begrudge those who easily find such a path your admiration, for their virtue is genuine. However, do not seek in them instruction, for the value of their example is limited. As for those such as you and I, whose paths are murky, we can learn only from our own mistakes and the bitter taste of regret each error engenders."

written while listening to:  Vajra - unreleased live recording, tracks 8-16 (December 20, 1996, Manda-la 2, Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 7, 2019
Traveler: Andromache; Companion: Eurymedusa; Moon: Gibbous

Andromache, as lovely as she was, was periodically subject to fits of impatience, though, if she had been asked, she would not have been able to explain just what she was waiting for.

"Perhaps, the end of the world?" suggested Eurymedusa, from the safety of the lake.

"It can't come quickly enough," Andromache shot back, though she was not able to entirely suppress a smile afterward.

"Come have a swim," said Eurymedusa, "it will take your mind off things."

Andromache disrobed and left her flute on the bank. The two young women swam in the cold waters of the subterranean pool. The one who dwelt always in this lake moved with a graceful fluidity, as if the molecules constituting her own body received special accommodation for frictionless movement from the surrounding water molecules. By comparison, with each stroke the other splashed about as if she fought to free herself from the jaws of a crocodile. Soon, Andromache had enough of this exercise. She stood dripping at the edge of the lake. "I don't think it helped," she said to her hostess, as she wrung water from her hair.

"No, it helped," Eurymedusa assured her.

Something is always coming. Those who wait with dread find, as often as not, their trepidation to be justified. On the other hand, those who manage their time with a nonchalant air, make for better company. In this, as in all things, adopting the right frame of mind, especially if it runs counter to one's nature, is easier said than done.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Totsuzen Danball - unreleased live recording, track 1 (March 9, 1997, Manda-la 2, Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan, digital file)

July 8, 2019
Traveler: Menestheus; Companion: Amphidocus; Moon: Gibbous

What was done one hundred years ago cannot be undone. So too is it is with actions of a day ago, or a minute or a second. The past is instantly immutable. Efforts ostensibly aimed at changing the past are actually attempts to merely influence interpretation of past events so as to affect future actions.

Menestheus wandered through the labyrinth in darkness. His own recent past consisted of little more than stumbling blindly through crooked tunnels, trying to keep one step ahead of the minotaur. It could truly be said that, in this non-negligible span of time, he had accomplished nothing, other than saving his own skin. Even that feat was only temporary. At any moment the minotaur could appear and all his efforts would come to naught.

When Menestheus shared this thought with Amphidocus, the other deemed this a peculiar perspective. "What else could you have done along the way?" he asked.

Menestheus paused. He was not especially inclined to share his most private ambitions with Amphidocus, though he thought highly of him. Instead, he produced a series of deeds, which could have occupied his time but which he regarded as relatively trivial. "I might have mapped the labyrinth, or composed a beautiful melody, or prayed at great length for our rescue from these mines."

"And yet why is it that you did none of those things?" Amphidocus asked.

"They appeal to me no more now than they did at the time," Menestheus admitted.

Amphidocus sensed the truth. "There is still time," he urged, "to tend to that one thing that remains undone and which, in its unfinished state, yet plagues you."

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Saoi Inoue - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-3 (April 8, 1997, Jean Jean, Shibuya, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 9, 2019
Traveler: Porphyrion; Companion: Andromache; Moon: Gibbous

The labyrinth induced in Porphyrion a tendency to brood, a habit which had been unknown to him when he lived beneath the open sky. It was, presumably, the combination of damp air, perpetual darkness, confinement and disorientation due to the maze that brought about this condition. As for the subject of his brooding, Porphyrion usually but not invariably regarded the distant fates of men and women, individually and collectively. He failed repeatedly to construct a framework by which he could reconcile the ephemerality of a mortal existence with the desire to participate in a meaningful task.

"How can I consider anything I do to be worthwhile, if all effects of my actions, however modest they may be, are lost to oblivion but a short time later?"

Andromache had been seated in an adjoining cavern when the echo of these words reached her. They drew her out and she said in reply to Porphyrion, "Undoubtedly, there is value in each of your actions if they alleviate suffering, comfort distress, dispel loneliness and generally serve as an ameliorative agent. Although each act of kindness disappears the instant it is completed, not one is wasted. The value of tenderness lies not in creating a definitive legacy but in the momentary reprieve from misery. That acts of unselfishness go unnoticed and unrewarded do not demean their significance. To the contrary, the lack of recompense amplifies virtue, if only into the void."

Of course, Porphyrion already knew everything that Andromache said. That he acted in a manner, which solicited such words, and that she responded in kind was strictly a demonstration of the necessity for stating obvious truths again and again.

written while listening to:  Vajra - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-7 (July 16, 1997, On Air West, Shibuya, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 10, 2019
Traveler: Antimachus; Companion: Periboea; Moon: Gibbous

Antimachus daydreamed as he drifted through the winding corridors of the labyrinth. He judged it not a poor use of his time because his alternatives were limited and because his idle fantasies hurt no one. Still, there came a point when Antimachus questioned the value of what he was doing. Approaching the entrance to a cavern, he observed the stalactites hanging down like fangs over the opening and the stalagmites rising to meet them. Ordinarily, Antimachus would have seen in this stone maw a great opportunity to test his courage. Surely, the minotaur lurked on the far side, murder on its bestial mind. However, in his current state, he could not muster the enthusiasm necessary to bring the scene to life. He stepped through the entrance without fanfare.

In the cavern Antimachus found not the minotaur but Periboea, who had judged this spot ideal for ambushing the monster and putting its reign of terror to an end. Observing Antimachus, she climbed down from her hiding spot and bid him join her.

Antimachus eyed the narrow perch upon which Periboea had crouched, waiting to pounce upon her prey. It looked very uncomfortable and he supposed that he would have to wait a considerably long time before the beast appeared. "Perhaps not today," he told her. "Besides, what good would I be?"

Periboea took this opportunity to describe the importance of his tactical role in the combat, eventually convincing Antimachus to ascend the narrow ledge beside her. There he provided good company until his back grew stiff and, in the absence of the beast, he wandered off, the pantry which fed his imagination replenished.

written while listening to:  Vajra - unreleased live recording, tracks 8-13 (July 16, 1997, On Air West, Shibuya, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 11, 2019
Traveler: Hesione; Companion: Melite; Moon: Gibbous

There is clear recognition of actions that constitute grave betrayal. Infidelity in a relationship, theft from an aging parent, and neglect of a child are just a few egregious examples that spring to mind. Life is also filled with lesser actions, which are often not commonly regarded as treachery, but would, perhaps, benefit from such relabeling in order to perceive them in a clearer light. In this category, Hesione considered such modest transgressions as unkind words. She imagined that the erosion of a relationship due to a daily trickle of little betrayals to be no less agonizing than a sudden and glaring violation of trust. "What do you think about doubt?" she asked Melite, when the two met by chance in a dark cavern.

"Doubt?"

"Yes, little sister. Here in the labyrinth, it is difficult to avoid. I can't find my way in the winding tunnels. At a juncture, I don't know which way to go and this uncertainty spreads to all things. And no one helps me. I find myself thinking that, even if the others were better able to navigate the darkness than I, they would not come to my aid. Isn't this doubt a betrayal of myself and my companions?"

Privately, Melite found no flaw with Hesione's reasoning, but she also accepted that the perception of one's life was highly subjective. It seemed unlikely to her that viewing life as an erratic series of betrayals could benefit anyone. Another might alternatively see the same chain of events as a sequence of opportunities for the subject of the mistreatment to express a tireless love, in an attempt to help the other grow. Thus Melite said to Hesione the following platitudes, "You must first believe in someone, before you can doubt them. Without love, there could be no betrayal. Perhaps, the answer is only to try to love a little better."

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Boris - unreleased live recording, track 1 (August 30, 1997, 20,000 Volts, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 12, 2019
Traveler: Idas; Companion: Antimachus; Moon: Gibbous

Somewhere in the depths of the labyrinth prowled the minotaur. For the most part, no indication of its presence was perceptible. Despite its silence, those, offered as tribute, who had been confined to the maze could not escape the dread of the hunted. Occasionally, the minotaur let loose with howls that echoed through all tunnels and chambers in the mine, lest anyone forget it existed. So it happened again. After the cacophony of the outburst died away, Idas experienced a heavy apathy, for the constant burden of beast's threat had exhausted his ordinarily curious nature. No longer did he wonder about the mental machinations of the beast that drove it to express its great rage. In the darkness, Idas shrugged.

A short time later, Antimachus, the daydreamer, came upon Idas. The roar of the minotaur lingered in both of their memories. "Did you feel that last one?" Antimachus asked, as if discussing the tremors of a distant earthquake. When Idas did no more than nod his assent, Antimachus continued. "The lord of the labyrinth reminds his subjects of its reign!" He gazed dreamily down the unlit corridor. "When you enter a king's court, it is proper to bring a gift. I have been contemplating a present appropriate to the monster. What do you think about a bull-headed scepter, cast in gold, as long as a man's stride?"

In response, Idas said, "I suspect that the only gift with which it will be satisfied is blood."

While Antimachus agreed with Idas' words, he casually ignored them, since he intended for his imagination to dull the foreboding of their ultimate fate.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Boris - unreleased live recording, track 2 (August 30, 1997, 20,000 Volts, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 13, 2019
Traveler: Melanippe; Companion: Hesione; Moon: Gibbous

As everyone knows, talents are distributed unevenly. To one goes an aptitude for words, to another the willingness to comfort those in distress, while to yet another, physical prowess. When a talent is recognized early, often the child, in whom the gift lies, is praised and either is put into a position or seeks one out themselves, where that skill can be further honed. At other times, it is need that drives a person to develop a talent for which they possess little innate predisposition. Melanippe, the cartographer, mapped the labyrinth. She was exceedingly careful at it, paying attention to every detail, though it cannot be denied that her map corresponded only conceptually to the twisting ways of the maze, a fault which lay not with the mapmaker but with the uncooperative terrain. Whatever the deficiencies of her map, no one but Melanippe possessed the audacity to attempt to describe the labyrinth. Even knowing this, it is hard to judge whether cartography was Melanippe's natural talent, for she complicated matters with her unwillingness to share the fruit of her labor.

"I am convinced," she told Hesione, "that each of us must make our own map of the darkness. Mine would do you more harm than good."

"Elder sister," Hesione replied, "The darkness of the labyrinth is due more to the barriers with which we separate ourselves than it is to the inability of sunlight to penetrate the rock overhead. If your map insists upon a solitary route, cast it away! Let me be your map. Let me guide you on a different path. Though we shall not escape the darkness, we may find a secret place where the intensity of its absence is less blinding."

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino, Arthur Doyle & Hiroshi Yamazaki - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-4 (November 2, 1997, Manda-la 2, Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 14, 2019
Traveler: Hippophorbas; Companion: Idas; Moon: Gibbous

There are many questions that begin with "Why" but they do not all ask the same thing. Hippophorbas sought to understand the "why" of the universe. Why did certain events come to pass? Why was world made without preference for joy over misery? With the answers to these questions he sought to justify the circumstances of his present time. It was ultimately, we suppose, an attempt by Hippophorbas to impose reasoning on an unreasoned reality.

Idas, on the other hand, sought to discover the "why" of people. Why could the same scene move one person to kindness and another to cruelty? Why did a woman choose to love one man and not another? Due to his current situation, Idas had allowed his questioning to extend from man to beast. Why did the minotaur permit them to wander for so long in its labyrinth, when its reputation was for unrestrained savagery?

One curious distinction between the why's of the inanimate and animate is the application of apophenia. The exercise of Hippophorbas was essentially nothing but the extraction of meaning from meaningless data, the epitome of apophenia, because he connected disparate elements of the world into a coherent, but fabricated narrative. However, we do not refer to Idas' perception of purpose in the analysis of human actions as apophenia, because he presumed that the actors intended for their gestures to have meaning. Only in the passing contrast of Hippophorbas and Idas, does the arbitrary but essential nature of our high regard for intent become clear.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino, Arthur Doyle & Hiroshi Yamazaki - unreleased live recording, tracks 5-7 (November 2, 1997, Manda-la 2, Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 15, 2019
Traveler: Periboea; Companion: Melanippe; Moon: Gibbous

The security of one's position is the primary differentiating factor in gauging the degree of courage when taking a stand on principle, because it is exposing oneself to risk that requires fortitude. Certainly, we may laud the powerful for speaking up on behalf of the vulnerable, but we do not think of them as courageous, only right-minded. It is the unprotected, who raise their voices despite the threat of retaliation, to whom we direct our proper admiration.

It is useful, when discussing the bravery, of Periboea to consider it in this context. She sought to confront and slay the minotaur, at great personal peril. Yet, her valor seemed, at times, indefatigable, rendering her immune to empathetic praise. It is therefore best to recall moments of weakness, when her aspect of invulnerability was punctured, in order to appreciate the strength of Periboea.

At least that is what Melanippe reasoned when she found Periboea huddled in a small alcove at the end of a narrow, dark crevice. She was bleeding from a wound on her brow. Melanippe supposed it was the result of a clash with the minotaur. Periboea must have dodged a killing blow, only to land just within the last quarter inch of a swiping claw. As Melanippe tended to the ugly wound, she found the cut ragged and began to suspect that the injury had been caused rather by a blow from a blunt rock. She had not thought the minotaur wielded stones as weapons. When she shared her conjecture with Periboea, the warrior-maiden corrected Melanippe, admitting she had inflicted this wound upon herself while running, in a panic, through the dark tunnels, where the rough ceilings drop without warning.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Motoharu Yoshizawa - unreleased live recording, track 1 (December 3, 1997, Manda-la 2, Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan, digital file)

July 16, 2019
Traveler: Melite; Companion: Hippophorbas; Moon: Gibbous

There is abundant empirical evidence that it is possible to eradicate kindness from an individual by subjecting them to persistent cruelty. The outcome is especially likely if the mistreatment is administered as a child, although it is also possible to change the nature of an adult through prolonged exposure to suffering. There are fewer examples to demonstrate the truth of the contrapositive, namely that a cruel man can be rehabilitated with kindness. In any case, there are exceptions to both rules--a woman of indomitable spirit whose optimism cannot be extinguished by malice and persecution, or, more commonly, the unrepentant criminal, immune to rehabilitation.

Absorbed in these thoughts, Melite wandered through the darkness of the labyrinth. She was drawn to such considerations because she felt her own reserve of mercy waning. "Can I become that rare example who retains her propensity for clemency despite the perpetual night that surrounds her?"

From the same darkness did this question emerge and arrive at the ears of Hippophorbas. Recognizing the voice, he called out, "Melite," though he could not see her. "Melite," he called again, when she did not answer. "I am certain that you are just that woman!" he shouted, his voice echoing down the tunnel. Of course, Hippophorbas possessed no special skill at prognostication, so he had no factual basis on which to make his declaration. He was moved to do so only by the notion that it was the duty of all who dwell in darkness to aid others in their search for the light.

written while listening to:  Black Stage & Lol Coxhill- unreleased live recording, tracks 1-9 (March 13, 1998, Hosei University, Iidebashi, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 17, 2019
Traveler: Demoleon; Companion: Hippophorbas; Moon: Gibbous

The perpetual darkness of the labyrinth honed Demoleon's other senses, especially his hearing. Therefore, he detected the approaching footsteps of a fellow wanderer long before they met. Although it was clear by the weight of the footfalls, that it was not the minotaur which drew near, Demoleon did not immediately declare himself. He lingered in the darkness, as if he were a thief waiting in a narrow alley to ambush and rob a passing pedestrian. Considering the unflattering analogy made him feel the role all the more strongly. Money had no value in the labyrinth and those who wandered in its depths carried nothing else of worth save that which was embodied in their person. It was useless to think of himself in the part of a robber but he was susceptible to moods where he no longer considered utility a virtue. As such, he felt additionally compelled to embrace the role.

Who knows how the encounter might have turned out had it not been Hippophorbas striding down the tunnel? His ears too were keen and he became aware of the presence of Demoleon in the shadows while still at a distance. His friendly greeting, coupled with his reputation for humility, deterred Demoleon from committing any actions that he might later regret. To be clear, Hippophorbas did not suppose that Demoleon had ill intent on his mind; that was not his way. Hippophorbas merely comported himself in such a manner that those who came in contact with him found easy opportunities to adopt a posture of magnanimity at the expense of other, competing impulses.

written while listening to:  Aihiyo - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-9 (May 8, 1998, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 18, 2019
Traveler: Eurymedusa; Companion: Periboea; Moon: Gibbous

All but the most cynical of us seek to frame our actions in a way that provides them with a rationale, which others can understand. Usually judgment calls are required in order to prioritize the "greater good" over the "lesser evil". Without resorting to a specific example, we suggest that frequently, our priorities are intentionally manipulated so that our actions can be portrayed as opposition to a "greater evil", with personal benefit, taking precedent over a "lesser common good". The justification of such a position typically requires the aggrandizement of evil, at the expense of others.

Eurymedusa had chosen to dwell in a cold, subterranean lake, rather than wander with her companions through the adjoining corridors of the labyrinth. She found in this arrangement a degree of safety and admitted to herself that her absence from the others weakened their resistance to the minotaur, at least by a little bit.

Periboea arrived at the bank of the lake. She bid Eurymedusa come and pass some hours with her. This the water maiden did, though she did not emerge from the shallows. Periboea, the warrior, described her latest sortie against the minotaur, in which, by feigning numbers, she had penned it in its den. "But I was alone," she said, "and eventually had to abandon my guard. I need you and all the others to defeat it."

Eurymedusa dissembled listlessly, citing her own weakness, the unreliability of their companions, the invulnerability of the minotaur and other excuses, reaching so far as to invoke an inauspicious arrangement of stars. Her lie was uncovered because, of course, trapped underground, they had long ago lost track of the trajectories of the planets among the constellations. Still, Periboea said nothing; exposing a lie for what it is also requires judgment, and a weighing of common and individual welfare.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Saga Yuki - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-2 (May 23, 1998, In F, Oizumi Gakuen, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 19, 2019
Traveler: Amphidocus; Companion: Melite; Moon: Gibbous

Amphidocus heard whispers in the darkness. The words themselves were too faint and therefore incomprehensible to him, so no explicit message was delivered. Pursuit of the voices proved fruitless; Amphidocus stumbled from one solitary darkness to another. He began to suspect that he was imagining the whispers. Alternative explanations were less likely. His companions in the labyrinth had no reason to haunt him in this way, nor did they possess the means to disappear without a trace. Of course, Amphidocus could have attributed the murmurs to the stone walls of the labyrinth; the inanimate world had its own messages and usually chose to deliver them via ambiguous channels.

At the next occurrence, Amphidocus ran at breakneck speed toward the sound. Arriving again in an empty cave, he grew frustrated and contributed to the darkness his own string of unintelligible grumbles and groans.

Drawn by this strange muttering, Melite found Amphidocus pacing. His irritability was clear in the abrupt way that he spun as his steps reached the limits of the chamber. She called to him when he stood at the midpoint, "Amphidocus, what ails you so?"

Stopping in his tracks, he said to the maiden, "I cannot understand what the darkness is trying to tell me."

"Oh," replied Melite, as if his was the most common complaint in the world. For a moment, Amphidocus suspected that she was going to prescribe a concoction of herbs to treat his state, as though he suffered from an ailment of the body. Instead, she began to mumble, imitating as closely as she was able the groans that had drawn her to Amphidocus. She supposed these familiar sounds would soothe the youth. In truth, his confusion only deepened, which prompted him to withdraw into a quiet mood, a transformation that Melite optimistically mistook as a sign of success.

written while listening to:  Aihiyo - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-4 (July 18, 1998, Manda-la 2, Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 20, 2019
Traveler: Andromache; Companion: Antimachus; Moon: Gibbous

Andromache was in no mood to play her flute. Although she ordinarily enjoyed weaving the threads of her music with its echoes through the corridors of the labyrinth, she found herself in a petulant frame of mind. Antimachus, the daydreamer, took great delight in Andromache's playing. Her habit of improvising unpredictably around traditional melodies stimulated his imagination in strange directions. However, when he found her seated alone in an unlit cavern, he proved unable to coax any music from her.

"I just want to get out of this accursed maze!" Andromache declared. "I want to feel the warmth of the sunlight on my face! I want to go home and feel my mother's embrace."

Antimachus was compelled to agree with Andromache; he shared all her desires. He too missed his parents and the open sky and the certainty of controlling his own actions, each of which the labyrinth had taken from them. Although he possessed no special musical talent, Antimachus sang to Andromache a rudimentary but fantastical song in which the two of them discovered a crack in the stone and slipped inside. Their bodies, pressed between two walls, felt the rock warming as they neared the surface. They emerged at noon; their shadows mere lily pads from which they leapt into the wide world. A pair of winged horses--a stallion and a mare--descended from the sky to carry them across the sea to the mainland, all in the blink of an eye. Home, they found their parents waiting for them in the city square. A lively celebration was held that lasted far into the night. Antimachus even dared, in his fantasy, to sing of Andromache finding a love for him in Athens that she had not discovered in the labyrinth.

Midway through the story, Andromache had been induced to accompany Antimachus on flute. When he sang of his romantic yearning, her music became comical. Though neither had foreseen this outcome, they parted ways, both in good spirits.

written while listening to:  Aihiyo - unreleased live recording, tracks 5-9 (July 18, 1998, Manda-la 2, Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 21, 2019
Traveler: Menestheus; Companion: Hesione; Moon: Gibbous

As Menestheus wandered through the darkness of the labyrinth, it could be said that he had not a care in the world, for though the minotaur prowled the same corridors, there was nothing Menestheus could do about it. Hiding was not an especially attractive course of action since an attack did not seem imminent. Perhaps a lifetime could transpire before an ambush, perhaps less. Besides, every passageway in the maze was its own hiding place, inaccessible as it was except by random footsteps.

Menestheus met upon this forlorn road a maiden by the name of Hesione. She greeted him as "younger brother" though no bond of blood linked them. It was said that she considered each of the companions in the mine as her sibling, though he had not questioned her on this point.

With her keen intuition, Hesione sensed that a change had come upon Menestheus. He was not, at that moment, the same gentle soul who had entered the labyrinth. Of course, she knew that we are all subject to change, some of it progressive and some oscillatory. She opted to believe that he was at the edge of a mood swing. Considering her options, she slipped her arm inside that of Menestheus and accompanied him in the darkness, speaking of those thoughts of home, which had been on her mind, before she had encountered him. These gestures and words form the somatic and verbal components of an ameliorative spell that is biological in nature. Because the magic conforms to the stuff of our being, its efficacy is nothing short of miraculous.

written while listening to:  Aihiyo - unreleased live recording, tracks 10-13 (July 18, 1998, Manda-la 2, Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 22, 2019
Traveler: Porphyrion; Companion: Idas; Moon: Gibbous

Having discovered a cavern filled with intricate, crystalline geological formations, Porphyrion had adopted it as his home. However, because this chamber was surrounded by the labyrinth, he was forced to curtail his wandering, lest he roam too far and be unable to retrace his steps. This he had done carefully and with some success. He had established several reliable paths in close proximity to the crystal temple. Still, he did not enjoy the feeling of being tethered to the cavern. Consequently, he inevitably wandered too far or was careless, though he would admit to neither of these errors. Rather, Porphyrion insisted that he had followed a well-worn path, just as he had done a hundred times before, but that the labyrinth had shifted its stones and betrayed him. For a long while, he searched for his lost temple before resigning himself to a resumption of his wandering in the unlit corridors of the labyrinth.

Idas, the curious, encountered Porphyrion in this morose state. When pressed, Porphyrion explained the cause of his dismay. The idea of restricting one's movements or actions to accommodate a certain place struck Idas as onerous. He preferred to flit like a butterfly from one blossoming spectacle to the next. Still, the words of comfort he offered Porphyrion were genuine, for even a butterfly retains the memory of breeding grounds, migratory routes and bountiful meadows. "The labyrinth has a way of reuniting things when you least expect it. When you eventually find your temple again, Porphyrion, your joy shall be all the sweeter. Until then, make the most of your travels."

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino, Chie Mukai & Ikuro Takahashi - unreleased live recording, track 1 (August 22, 1998, Showboat, Koenji, Tokyo, Japan, digital file)

July 23, 2019
Traveler: Europe; Companion: Melanippe; Moon: Gibbous

Because the minotaur did not exist and because the labyrinth was incomprehensible, Europe languished. While the others sought to elude the beast or map the maze, Europe's convictions pierced the veil of reasoning behind which they performed their actions, revealing their futility. She would not parrot their words and gestures merely for the sake of social harmony. That there might be some value in fearing a monster that did not exist or in seeking to understand that which was without meaning occurred to Europe, but individuals are made in many ways, some more stubborn that others. Europe proved unable to convince herself of the merit of such collective acts of self-deception. Unfortunately, she had yet to identify a satisfactory replacement.

Melanippe, the cartographer, who sought to commit the treachery of the labyrinth to parchment, bore no grudge for the low esteem in which Europe held her labor. To the contrary, Melanippe seemed to recognize the quandary into which Europe had forced herself. She responded with sympathy because, despite a difference in philosophical opinions, their situations were not all that dissimilar and Melanippe had the advantage of a map by which she hoped to extricate herself, while Europe had nothing. "Poor girl with nothing," thought Melanippe of Europe. "I would offer to share my map with you but I know that you prefer it your way." Instead, the two maidens admired an elaborate though ultimately meaningless pattern made by a vein of silver streaking through the stone wall of the mine, something which they could both agree existed.

written while listening to:  Vajra - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-10 (October 10, 1998, Quattro, Shibuya, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 24, 2019
Traveler: Hesione; Companion: Menestheus; Moon: Gibbous

In all the world, there is no power greater than an uncaring nature, for the paragon of such an ideal is imperturbable. Neither storm nor tragedy elicits a response. A stalwart among the easily influenced, this individual is not moved by the arguments of those who seek to manipulate their fellow man. At the same, there are certain inherent disadvantages associated with an uncaring nature. Once a person is identified as such, others tend to avoid forming meaningful relationships with them. Those who have come to love this person, despite their flaws, are hurt by their inability to respond in kind. On the whole, one supposes the power associated with detachment is outweighed by the commensurate emptiness.

It is far better to love, even if one is of an inconstant disposition, or so Hesione reasoned. Life is a series of fluctuations; permanence is better suited to death. Hesione strove to devote herself to her companions in the maze but, in a moment of weakness, when she found the most gentle among them, Menestheus, alone and despondent in the darkness of the mine, she was overcome by an implacable exhaustion. She quietly retreated, never revealing her presence to one who sorely needed her. Hesione reckoned her actions a great betrayal and pitilessly castigated herself. Overcome by guilt, she attempted to retrace her steps. Of course, given the convolutions of the labyrinth, her intentions were thwarted. She had no recourse but to make amends with the next traveler, who, in the midst of misfortune, happened to cross her path.

written while listening to:  Keiji Haino & Michiyo Yagi - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-14 (February 5, 1999, Lady Jane, Shimokitazawa, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 25, 2019
Traveler: Idas; Companion: Porphyrion; Moon: Gibbous

Most of us would agree that it is less unkind to ignore someone than to feign concern, for it constitutes a single offense to consider a person of no account but two transgressions when compounded with deceit. The curiosity of Idas waxed and waned like the moon, except that its orbit was elliptical and its period irregular. At this moment, he could not garner interest in the motivations of the minotaur. Should he come face to face with the beast in a narrow tunnel, he would not ask what series of errors in its history compelled it to feast on the flesh of young men and women. On the contrary, he would simply flee as best he was able, like a frightened rabbit, scurrying to its bolt-hole to find safety or to await death.

It turned out to be Porphyrion, whom Idas next encountered. They stumbled into each other at a nondescript juncture in the labyrinth. One youth, we forget which, offered perfunctory words of greeting and the other responded in kind. They appeared as two mannequins, performing according to a script of niceties, a comparison which disturbed Idas. He deviated from the script and questioned Porphyrion regarding his thoughts on why the minotaur had developed a taste for human flesh. It remains unclear whether Porphyrion was pleasantly surprised or taken aback by this unexpected query. In either case, he was startled out of his trance and spoke at some length on theoretical explanations, plausible but all the same regrettable, for an outcast to turn so utterly against its kin.

written while listening to:  Aihiyo - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-3 (March 13, 1999, Manda-la 2, Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 26, 2019
Traveler: Melanippe; Companion: Europe; Moon: Gibbous

Melanippe had gone to considerable trouble to map a portion of the labyrinth. It was rumored that the maze was infinite in expanse, descending beyond the boundaries of the Earth, so, from a mathematical point of view, Melanippe had mapped only a vanishingly small fraction of it. Still, this labor defined her life underground. She was rightfully proud of it. She spread the parchment out carefully on a dry patch of rock and showed it to Europe, when their paths crossed.

"Has it helped you elude the beast?" Europe asked.

"I'm still here, aren't I?"

"I'm here too," Europe, who had no map of her own, countered.

"It has value," Melanippe insisted, somewhat defensively, "as a representational artifact, which derives its worth from signifying another thing rather than performing a function."

"Oh," said Europe. She gave the map a second look, as if it were a piece of abstract art. If she squinted, the myriad of lines took on the vague appearance of a tangle of asphodels, their straight stems cutting lines across each other, six or more paths radiating from each intersection, like petals from a blossom. "Asphodels," she said idly. Suddenly homesick for the sweet aroma of a flower-laden meadow, Europe stepped away from the map.

Melanippe supposed that Europe referred to the fabled Meadows of Asphodel, where it is said that those of us who have led lives of mediocre account can find an alternative to oblivion. Despite her disclaimer, Melanippe assumed that Europe yet sought a practical purpose to the map, a means to escape their subterranean prison. She was not inclined at that time to restate her admonition against seeking meaning in the map of another.

written while listening to:  Aihiyo - unreleased live recording, track 4 (March 13, 1999, Manda-la 2, Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 27, 2019
Traveler: Hippophorbas; Companion: Demoleon; Moon: Gibbous

In the sociological analysis of the distribution of attitudes regarding safety nets for the most vulnerable elements of society, a curious phenomenon emerges, in which those who enjoy some measure of success disregard all contributing factors save their own perseverance and hard work. The tendency to become blind to the aid that the community offered in the building of a business or a career, which ostensibly would benefit the public in general, should not be mistaken for anything other than a manifestation of arrogance and greed.

Wandering in the darkness of the labyrinth, Hippophorbas supposed that his continued survival was a testament to his ability to outwit the minotaur and to his resilience in the face of adversity. We do not argue that Hippophorbas possessed a fine intelligence and a robustness of spirit, nor that his hardship was genuine. With his curly locks and broad shoulders, he was uncommonly handsome as well. Blessed as he was, he nevertheless succumbed to the fallacy that he controlled his own destiny, that neither luck nor the society, which had reared him, had anything to do with his accomplishments.

We remonstrate with Hippophorbas only mildly, for there are worse fates. Consider Demoleon, no less gifted, who found in the same darkness of the caves, a deeper shadow within himself and who, on occasion, indulged in a dark debauchery. He too elevated his own value over those he exploited, based on the presumption that his talents gave him the right to do so. Surely, the flaws of Demoleon were more egregious than those of Hippophorbas. Still, there is no justification in praising the one simply because the other is worse. There is, it seems, always something worse.

written while listening to:  Aihiyo - unreleased live recording, tracks 5-7 (March 13, 1999, Manda-la 2, Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 28, 2019
Traveler: Periboea; Companion: Eurymedusa; Moon: Gibbous

Periboea had not returned to the bank of the subterranean lake intentionally; the labyrinth had simply deposited her there after an extended period of directionless wandering. She experienced a measure of relief, because she knew the lake to be the home of her friend, Eurymedusa, the maiden who swam within its cold waters and had not been seen to leave their refuge since her earliest days in the mine.

"Eurymedusa, is it I, Periboea." The words echoed over the still, dark surface. Not a ripple did they stir. Periboea repeated her greeting several times, eliciting no response. Because it was the labyrinth, she naturally feared that the minotaur, finally overcoming what modest protection the lake provided, had claimed the swimmer. She looked about her hurriedly, though her eyes could pierce neither the shadows of the cavern nor the black reflection of the water. Without another word, she retreated back down the same corridor by which she had arrived.

In fact, Eurymedusa remained alive and well in her watery domain. She had remained hidden, all but her head submerged, and that but another imperceptible stone set against the distant shore. Who among us has not answered the door when an unexpected caller knocked, even if it was a friend? Perhaps we were roused from a nap and not yet dressed. More likely, we were in the midst of a passing, mental state disinclined to engage with others. Certainly, it is no great sin to desire solitude. We would not label Eurymedusa's behavior dishonest save that it deprived Periboea of comfort and sent her scurrying back into the maze, thoughts of death on her mind.

written while listening to:  Aihiyo - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-8 (March 17, 1999, Manda-la 2, Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 29, 2019
Traveler: Melite; Companion: Amphidocus; Moon: Gibbous

It is inevitable, given the imperfect judgment of human beings, that some among us value mercy less than others and, accordingly, exercise it sparingly. Such insensitivity does not necessarily mean that we do not appreciate mercy as an ideal. To the contrary, its absence in practice reflects the difficult reality of our circumstances, in which we are asked to simultaneously optimize many factors, including our personal welfare and the common good. Much heartlessness can be rationalized under such conditions. Some exemplars find fulfilment in self-sacrifice, but it is by our more ordinary behavior that the remarkable nature of their virtue is emphasized.

Even within an individual, the tendency to act mercifully fluctuates in time. Here, we think fondly of Melite, who pitied the stones for their inability to feel, the wind for its homelessness and humanity for the harm it did to itself based on its collective and mundane poor impulse control. Melite had, on occasion, failed in her search within herself for a modicum of charity. In the twisting darkness of the labyrinth, she exhaled deeply. "Let all this suffering come to nothing."

Amphidocus happened to be passing through an adjoining tunnel, though we suppose he was not within earshot. As if carried by aberrant echoes, Melite's words reached him. Amphidocus received the words as a malediction emanating from the very rock of the maze. He refused to be deceived by the delicate voice in which the message was delivered. He inhaled deeply, internalizing the directive, then bellowed the very same words in such a rage that the syllables were garbled, emerging as if from an inhuman throat.

Melite mistook this roar as a sign of the minotaur and fled until she was once again lost and alone in the midst of the labyrinth.

written while listening to:  Aihiyo - unreleased live recording, tracks 9-19 (March 17, 1999, Manda-la 2, Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan, digital files)

July 30, 2019
Traveler: Antimachus; Companion: Andromache; Moon: Gibbous

In a crooked, narrow crevice, Antimachus slept fitfully. His dreams, no less than his waking hours, were troubled by the pursuit of the minotaur. His movements were unnaturally hindered, as if he trudged through a viscous atmosphere of syrup. He dared to glance over his shoulder, but his neck had limited mobility. Only from the corner of his eye could he glimpse the horned beast not far behind, though its gait was lethargic, as if the monster was indifferent to the outcome of the chase. This detachment seemed contagious, for Antimachus soon experienced both a physical weariness as well as a mental exhaustion, which caused him to cease his flight. He waited for the arrival of the minotaur, but as is the way in dreams, time and space became distended. Though each stride of the hooved legs consumed a sizeable distance, the creature drew no nearer. The dream succumbed to paralysis and did not abandon Antimachus until he was roused by the voice of another.

"Wake up, Antimachus," called Andromache. She jostled his shoulder. Apparently, she had something on her mind, which she urgently wished to share with him.

Antimachus rose groggily to a sitting position, stretching his arms and legs to free them from the stupor of his dreams. So fresh was the nightmare in his mind that he did not allow Andromache to speak, insisting instead on relating the vision, as a way to purge it from his system. He described the repetitive motion of the minotaur in great detail and at such length that no one could reasonably expect Andromache to sustain her interest. She left, flustered but unsurprised; she was well aware that there are a variety of people among us who cannot see past their own problems. Andromache for her part, had not yet come up with a reliable method to interact fruitfully with such folk.

written while listening to:  Aihiyo - unreleased live recording, tracks 1-6 (April 9, 1999, Tokuzo, Nagoya, Japan, digital files)

July 31, 2019
Traveler: Eurymedusa; Companion: Amphidocus; Moon: Gibbous

Today, we feel inclined toward anachronism, describing Eurymedusa as the Lady of the Lake, though her particular domain lay deep underground and was accessible only by traveling through a mine, which had come to be known as the labyrinth. Is it a lie to describe her in this way? We can offer assorted evidence that it is not. Her sorcery was great, for how else could she have survived never leaving the cold, dark water, save by calling upon supernatural spirits to sustain her? Likewise, her gifts were extraordinary, for those pilgrims who managed to reach her bank were presented with uncommon wisdom, departing in far better stead than that in which they had arrived. Her loveliness too was legendary, though it was inextricable from the darkness of cavern in which she dwelt.

Amphidocus did not approve of this comparison, for he questioned Eurymedusa's purpose. Had she not originally retreated to the lake in fear, so as to protect herself from the predation of the minotaur? Why should, in her case, the original cause be separated from the eventual outcome? Certainly for many others, such generosity was not forthcoming.

All things are simultaneously greater and lesser than themselves. Aggrandizement is not intrinsically a flaw. When we exaggerate a thing or inflate our accomplishments to our own advantage, no one can mistake our actions for virtue. On the other hand, seeing the best in others is another strand of hyperbole, without which the world would be a far less magnificent place.

written while listening to:  Aihiyo - unreleased live recording, tracks 7-13 (April 9, 1999, Tokuzo, Nagoya, Japan, digital files)

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